Beckoning Insanity
by Shizuka no Taisho
Summary: There was red everywhere. It streaked his hair, splattered his clothes. It even clotted under his ragged nails. He couldn't find release from the smell of metal no matter where he turned. It was everywhere…it was everything.  Kira-Light themed


"_It was foolish to think you could escape me, Light. There's no where to run. Your demons will follow you, always waiting with their bloody claws, and in the end….."_

"_You'll only have me to come to."_

Light sobbed and curled his legs into himself, tears streaking down his face and cutting razor lines through the thick, clotting red coating him from jaw to temple. He scrubbed at it, but more of the warm sanguine marred his cheek, making him flail against the wall. Red. There was red everywhere. It streaked his hair, splattered his clothes. It even clotted under his ragged nails. He couldn't find release from the smell of metal no matter where he turned. It was everywhere…it was everything.

Dropping his hand, he gazed at the floor. Palms to concrete, dirty nails scratching uselessly at the dingy surface. Light dimly noticed one more break off and fall to the floor. What did it matter. Many others were imbedded in the pitted grey, some stained with red, others black and wrought with grime. He looked down at his left hand, and the fleshy tissue free from its hardened protection. There was pain, but then it was nothing more than a passing flicker in his mind. Pain….he was used to pain. It came every day, pitching his body into tumulus waves of never ceasing horror. Everything hurt, nothing hurt….it just didn't stop, no matter how hard he begged. His mind was folding inwards, threads of closure unraveling to reveal the blackness inside. He could barely distinguish sanity from madness anymore, though he knew one thing. They hurt, both of them. Nothing offered release. His tears weren't going to stop.

"_You can make it stop, if you really want to….you know what you have to do…."_

Crack. Another nail broke, hanging off his finger like a miniature charm. Light blinked, tears stilling momentarily, and he poked it. Fire burst forth, eating his flesh. He did it harder. Inside his head, the laughs beat against bone, threatening to break free. He bit his lip, tasting the blood there. Those laughs….they went on for hours upon hours, building up in a sick crescendo, mocking him with their freedom. They could come and go whenever they wanted. He couldn't. He was stuck here, a prisoner in this tiny concrete room, walls splashed in blood, floor blank but for the scratches he'd marked into the surface.

Why couldn't he be free?

"_You could let go…..it would be so easy. You don't need to hold yourself back. Come to me, Light. Come to me. I'll make you mine."_

He was caged. An animal. No chains or leashes, or binding metal cuffs, but the reins were out of his hands. Any control had been removed long ago, leaving him alone. Gone. There was nothing now, save for the storm colored walls, each reflecting the raging turbulence inside his mind. And the blood. Light pressed his forehead to his knees, trying to block out the sickening madness closing in on him. It teased his flesh, naked in the cold. Promises of warmth, passion….never-ending black. He didn't want it. That wasn't him. He was good, very good. He helped people. The world was changing because he deemed it so, and yet he was here. Locked away. He had nothing.

"_You can have everything."_

"Shut up," Light whimpered, dirty hands clutching his head. More laughter! Soaking into bone, carving word of unhealthy promises. Why wouldn't it go away? He didn't deserve this. And he wouldn't believe the monsters crawling in the corners. Murderer, killer. "….Kira…."

The darkest of them all, he ruled the tiny cage Light was huddled in, tormenting his little prisoner with the stench of blood and death. They were his calling, the voices whispered. A god of death, he wielded them as a scythe, cutting down those who stood in his path. Kira declared himself a savior, the world's only hope to salvation; Light shook his head, fingers knotting in oily strands. He wasn't a savior. He was the monster, evil incarnate, and he would fight against him.

"_Accept it. Accept me. Together we'll bathe the world in blood, and create our new world order. You will be revered as a God, Light. Isn't that what you want? To be acknowledged, cherished? …loved?" _

"_I can give that to you." _

Light shrieked, thumping his head against the floor. Stop, stop, stop it! The taste of death filled his mouth as he released a peal of broken laughter, the sound echoing off the walls, hitting him full force. He bit down on his tongue, smothering it, the pain blooming at his temples. Too much. Kira wouldn't stop. The killer kept hissing poison words into his ears, each tasting of the terror and rage that clung to him like a robe. Awaken, return to your true self, and the world is yours. He only had to redeem himself of his folly, and accept the presence inside his mind. After all, he'd been gone for too long, the games were beginning to break upon reality's board. Pieces shattered, others scattered into nothingness, and each removal left him utterly alone on the checkered plane. But it was so stained with gore, he couldn't even see the tile. It was all grey, and black, and red. Blood.

He was covered in it.

Looking down at his hands, caramel eyes went wide in sheer terror. Those weren't his hands. Fingernails ripped away, palms slashed with gaping wounds, and tan skin so mottled with red it was only a mesh of drying, sticky, wet….Light gagged, bile coating his tongue. No, those weren't his hands! He screamed, smacking them against the wall. Concrete scraped his already raw flesh, and fresh blots of the red spewed forth, scrolling down his naked arms. Light screamed louder, bashing them again, and again. A knuckle cracked, bone popping through, but he grinded it into the grey, tears blurring his vision and making everything turn black. All save for his hands. Those stayed red. Sick, gleaming red.

"_Don't you see? Look at the color, Light. It's so vivid. Like you. You were made for this…made for me."_

Lies, he was lying! The broken jumbles of his hands dropped to the floor in a plop of wet, crunchy bone and skin. He'd hurt himself…Light stared through the tears, the only thing left clean in the tiny room. But even those turned dark as they caressed his cheeks. He was so alone. He had no one. No one, save for the monster laughing inside his head. The monster that reached out with equally bloody hands, fingertips touching his eyes, bleeding tips displaying vision after vision of another time.

"_You want me back. You want what once was."_

"…_let me give that to you."_

Fluttering noises softened the blows inside his skull, and Light raised his head, watching weakly as papers descended from the ceiling. Papers. Names. Each one fell slowly and settled on the floor, mere inches from his legs, the edges turning sodden in the glistening pools his body exhaled. He curled up tighter, avoiding them. He didn't need to read the names scrawled in thin lines.

Why bother reading what you already knew?

Light rocked back and forth, back and forth. Every damnable name was whispered into his ear, clinging purrs honey soft. But the sweetest treat could be hiding a poison, that Light knew all too well. And what Kira offered….it was death. Death on a silver platter, garnished with roses that's petals turned molten at the faintest touch. He didn't want that. He wanted nothing to do with it. He wasn't Kira, he couldn't be Kira. Kira was a murderer. The blood of thousands coated his hands, broken only by graveyard earth that dusted their graves. Light imagined the same dirt sprinkling on him next, burying him alive in the tiny room. He'd try to claw his way free, lungs aching for breath, hands scraping at the earth. Hands…he whimpered again, turning his own palm up. A jagged piece of bone pointed to the ceiling, pearly white and thickening at the edges with crusts of gore.

"_This doesn't need to continue, Light. Things can be fixed. I'll fix them for you. Just say the word. Say it…and we'll be together again. I won't leave you alone, not like everyone else. I'll take you out of this little room. You can be free, free to take the world and make it yours once more." _

"…..free," Light whispered, and the laughter in his head cooled to a quiet chuckle. Freedom. He'd been locked in this prison for so long, he was sure he'd forgotten what true freedom was. All he knew now were the sounds beating his skull, the blood trickling from his battered frame. And his cries, continuously spat against dirty concrete. All those….and the voice. The voice that teased, taunted…..enticed. For every ridicule, there was a persuasive encouragement. Emotional and physical torture were a mere means to an end. He-Kira-_Kira_-wanted only for the nearly identical faces to become whole once more. But that would mean

"Acceptance."

Kira wanted him. Light shuddered, lashes sticking wetly to gaunt cheekbones. Kira wanted to reclaim him, pull him back into the fold. He wanted to bring to life what once was. There was no hiding from it, or running anymore, not when he was trapped and at the mercy of the blood….of the death. Of Kira. He couldn't escape. The beatings of his body were weak gestures, nothing more than childish rebellion. He couldn't leave his concrete domain. The rights of freedom didn't belong to him, and never would.

"_Light…"_

Only Kira was granted freedom. He wasn't Kira, so the blood and jagged nails were all he would ever see. Wounds would heal, and be broken open again, a never-ending cycle of blistering pain. He was stuck, a prisoner without cuffs or collar. His only shackles were the taunting screams stabbing his temples, and Kira's wine smooth lies. If he fell….if he gave into the snake's words…Light's tears slowed to a crawl, then ceased altogether as he shakily pushed away from the wall, broken hands dangling uselessly at his sides. Legs trembled with exertion, nearly knocking him down, but he managed to stand and turn towards the far corner of the room. Shadows swirled, licking at the blood slick floor. There was hunger in the way they reached out for him. Hunger, jaws snapping. Death was calling to him.

"I'm not you," he muttered towards the shadows, and the cackles bled forth from his eardrums. He winced, trying to push them away. But this time, they pushed right back, and the laughter turned into howled screams. The walls throbbed with them, concrete cracking and sending showering bits rolling across the floor. Light screamed, his own barely heard. Paper sliced into his bare feet, stinging cuts wet with blood, red dots of the gore mere highlights to the countless names surrounding him. Death. It was everywhere, and everything. The blood, the nails. The pages fluttering in an invisible wind. He stumbled, looking around desperately. No escape. No freedom. "Let me go…let me go, please….."

"_Show me your true self. Quit hiding from me. You're not happy, Light. You put yourself here, the dark recesses of your mind. I can release you. I can take you away." _

_The blood doesn't have to be yours, Light…"_

He wasn't a murderer. He wasn't a killer. Kira was. Kira slaughtered people in a twisted lust for power, and it was Kira who teased him now, trying to draw him into the madness. Light knew that, he understood. The pain rolling down his body, mangled fingers twitching uncontrollably. That was a gift from the monster, his tormentor, and he had no choice but to accept it. Here, in this room, Kira ruled all. He controlled everything. And there was only one way to escape.

Light bowed his head, dirty bangs shrouding his eyes. This was his mind. His prison. The key though….._he _held it, bloodstained digits extending from the shadows. It was offered to him, another gift from the darkness and laughter that never ceased. He could have his freedom. He could leave this prison, the hellish inner pits of his mind. He'd be free….

But that was wrong. Trapped or not, he couldn't give into Kira. He wasn't a murderer. He couldn't take a human life, ever, despite what the murmuring voice in his ear said. There was no potential, or hiding from the truth, because he wasn't Kira. His weren't the hands of a killer. The blood of the wicked didn't coat his flesh. It was his own blood splattered across the room, drawn at Kira's word. Kira had been pushing him, making him teeter the edge of sanity, until he was so close to stepping off into oblivion that the voice in his head was pounding, stronger than ever. Even now, it blistered like wildfire.

He had the sudden urge to beat his skull against the wall.

"_Come back…..come back to me…."_

"_Let me set you free."_

The fingers reaching out from the corner melded into an arm, then a shoulder, until a complete upper half was leaning out of the darkness, full lips curved into a sadistic little grin. Light gasped, feet slipping in a pool of blood as he drew away. Him…..he was here. That was his face staring out of the shadows! "Oh god….." he fell, more of the sticky red coating his back. A chuckle sounded from the man, and he stepped completely into the room, shadows shrouding his form in a dusky cloak. Words weren't shared; they weren't needed. He could hear _his_ voice as clearly as he could his own.

"I won't join you! I won't!" He flailed, trying not to scream as a cold smile fixated upon him. "I'm not you, I've never been you…please, just go away. Let me go." He shrank into the corner, the back of his head thumping against cold concrete. And still he stood there, the man with a face near identical to his own, save for the blazing irises shaded a horrible tint of vibrant

"_Red. Your eyes are red. MY eyes are red. We have the same color, Light. Don't you know why that is?" _

Light twisted away, avoiding the bloodstained touch as it reached for him. He couldn't move far though, and it took over his cheek, holding the tan, slick flesh with gentle possession. Fingers squeezed, remained there for a moment, and then a soft thumb was smearing blood across his lips. Light pressed them taut, but he could taste the salt, and the metal. He was far too used to it by now. Kira did nothing but torment him, relentless in his quest to make him see reason, as he called it. Yet this was the first time he'd ever appeared in person. He was….terrifying. Alluring. Far too dangerous. "..let me go," he whispered again, staring into the face of Kira.

"_No more of this. You brought yourself here, and now it's time to leave. I grow tired of waiting for you, Light. Take my hand. Become one with me. Or stay here and rot, a mere shell of your former self. Is that what you really want? To be all alone? I will leave you here, if so. I'll leave, and you'll have only your screams to keep you company."_

Only his screams…..he'd be left all alone, four walls and healing wounds his only company. The madness would never end; it would keep him locked away for all eternity, a pet in the black abyss. Light was terrified. His mind was already so far gone, he'd go completely insane if left to his own devices. Kira had pushed him there, but the dealing blow would be by his own hands. His mangled, hideous hands. Light breathed a quiet, shaky cry, and the fingers against his lips muffled them. He shook them away, avoiding the look of those ruby eyes. He couldn't look at them. He didn't want to see such horror on his own face. But it was there, and he couldn't not look. Kira drew him upwards, bringing him to his feet, Light's body almost recoiling back into the corner. The words of persuasion began replaying in his mind, a far cry from the unyielding screams.

He just had to let go. Kira was a whole other brand of insanity, one bred in the blackness. He controlled death. He was king, God…..he was everything Light wanted to be. Wait…no, nono. That was wrong! He didn't want to be a murderer! Greater good or not, he refused to touch such tainted filth. Kira radiated the stench of blood, and his shroud was dusted with crumbling earth. He was a monster…..

But he was a God too….

"_How can you punish the monsters of the world, if you aren't willing to see through their eyes?"_

"_To fight madness, you must become its equal."_

Kira moved away, beginning to vanish back into the shadowy pits. Those red eyes stared unflinchingly at him, beckoning him to follow. To become. Light shook, broken fingers scrabbling at the pitted floor. He wanted to fight for the world, but at what cost? He couldn't fall into madness, and he couldn't embrace it. That was wrong.

….wasn't it?

Tears stung his eyes, teasing the open wounds on his face. Light felt them burn, and slowly he retracted his hands, gaping at the bloody tips of his fingers, the blackness crusted beneath. He'd been tearing his own face apart. God, what was wrong with him? The pain grew, salt searing in the wounds. Light's lips curved in a scream, and he let loose, thrashing in his corner. His body was near epileptic, beating against any surface he could reach. Limbs crunched, bone broke through flesh, and all the while Kira watched him with something akin to fascinating on his face. He was a monster, he was a monster…

"_I'll make you better…."_

Light fell in a jumbled mess, red plastering hair to his face. He couldn't see. There was only…it. Blood, blood, coating everything. He reached up, limbs trembling, and through the sanguine haze he made out the form of Kira leaning out of the corner, a single hand extended. Light slapped it away, but Kira merely pushed it closer, tapered fingers curled towards the ceiling. A page of notebook was there, folded neatly in his palm. He could touch it. Kira could touch it.

"_I'm all you have. I'm all you need. Take my hand."_

The insanity pushed down on him, coating his body in thick, writhing sheets. He couldn't fight it, he was weak. Useless. Only Kira was unaffected. Here, he was God. Nothing could touch him. It was all his. And yet…he offered it. He wanted to take him away, protect him. The monster, his torturer….held out a hand. Light looked at the piece of paper, making out its lined surface through the sticky blood. It called to him, with the same thrall that Kira radiated. Was that the source of his power? The papers surrounding him, close enough to touch. Names, countless, though he could recall each and every one, as if he'd written them himself. Had he? The sensation of a pen in his hand, and the scratching of ink on paper; he knew it.

Kira waited, a silent creature. The shadows were moving, snaking around his legs, and his arm. As he watched, the monster started to dissolve. He was going to leave the room quicker than he'd came, abandoning Light, leaving him to his own devices. He'd be alone. Forever. The madness would be his only ally in the darkness. Concrete, untouchable papers that sliced his flesh, and thickening gore. Light wanted to hyperventilate, remaining nails clawing at his legs. God, he couldn't get clean. He was filthy. He was…..wrong. Like him. He was a monster. He'd drove himself to unthinkable limits, and the precipice loomed black before him. He was going to fall.

"_Light…"_

Things would only get worse if he stayed.

Lips twitching, Kira nudged his hand closer, all that remained of his figure, save for a beautiful, bloody face. So like his own….Light choked, bile trickling down his chin. He couldn't die, he couldn't breathe. All he could do was suffer. He didn't want that. His mind cried for any relief from the madness, body strained to a new breaking point. Wounds would heal, but his sanity wouldn't. Kira was an entity all his own. He controlled the thoughts plaguing Light's head. If he left…would they leave? Or would Kira give him that solitary punishment. His presence gone, but the laughter locked inside. Growing louder, and louder, and

Light screamed, long and hard.

"_Say it. You want to be free, so say it. Give into me. I can offer you the world." _

"_You can be a God, Light….."_

Inside his head, the laughter mocked him, and he smacked flesh to concrete, tasting his own blood on his lips. He didn't want to be alone! He couldn't handle this anymore! "Please….." he grinded his nose into the floor, childish in his pathetic whimpers. He was tired of fighting. He wanted to leave. He didn't want to be alone with the laughter, and the blood. Cycles of pain, and healing, and more pain; was it so wrong to want release from that hell? Kira was offering him a chance. But…he had to accept. He had to become. Darkness could only fight darkness in the world outside. Understanding the monster, letting it into his soul. That would give him strength. He could fight again. And this time, he wouldn't stop.

"Please! Kira!" Fumbling blindly, he lifted his own mangy hand, clutching at the entity standing in solitary comfort before him. "Help me!"

Silence, cold and bitter. They stared at each other, red eyes fading back into the shadows, and then the slip of paper was extended to Light, edges brushing his splattered palm. Kira smiled.

"…_.welcome back."_

_**A product of boredom at the early hours of the morning. I grew tired with it towards the end, so frankly it kinda sucks in my mind, but all way. It's some Kira-Light to tide over people while I work on other stuff. :shrug:**_

_**Disclaimer: Death Note isn't mine. Duh. **_


End file.
